


Pretty Strangers and The Promises They Hold

by jeromesqualor



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 23:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14224482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeromesqualor/pseuds/jeromesqualor
Summary: Even though they’d met loads of versions of Rimmer over the years, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d meet another one before his Rimmer came back.HisRimmer.Smeg.-Late at night and whisper-quiet, Nanobot!Rimmer asks Lister to tell him about hologram!Rimmer.





	Pretty Strangers and The Promises They Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Set during season 8.

Lister has had dreams about seeing Rimmer again. He figured at first that it was some fluke of his subconscious – he could hardly stand Rimmer when he was actually around – but the dreams don’t let up. Dream Rimmer would arrive on Starbug in his ridiculous Ace outfit (thankfully without his ridiculous Ace hair), and he would be all softness and easy smiles in a way Rimmer never had been. Sometimes there’s kissing – and eventually he gives up on making a big show of finding that revolting – and sometimes there’s more, the outline of a hard cock rutting against his hip, a hand palming his erection through his overalls. The first morning he wanks himself off thinking of his dream, Lister’s face is hot with shame for days. 

But mostly, Dream Rimmer holds him tightly, his hard-light body warm and strong against Lister’s living body. He rubs a hand up and down Lister’s back or twirls his fingers in his dreads, whispering promises to never leave again. “Listy,” Dream Rimmer murmurs, and it makes every muscle in Lister’s body relax. 

He’s thought about it a lot, is the point. Meeting Rimmer again. But it’s always the same Rimmer who’d left. He’d always talk about how he wanted to give up being a hero to come back to Starbug, or at least, how he’d been smeg at being a hero and was coming back with his tail between his legs. Even though they’d met loads of versions of Rimmer over the years, it hadn’t occurred to him that he’d meet another one before _his_ Rimmer came back. 

_His_ Rimmer. _Smeg_. 

But here is Rimmer, real and alive, not a Rimmerworld clone and not from some other dimension. He’s the Rimmer he knew before the accident. At first he kind of dreaded that – he hated the Rimmer he knew before the accident – but it turned out Rimmer hadn’t changed much over his years as a hologram. All that had really changed for Rimmer to go from the biggest smeghead in the universe to, well, still the biggest smeghead in the universe, but also his best friend, was that Lister got to know him, really knew him, from his horrible childhood to his every little quirk. So he looks at this Rimmer, and he can see that stuff. 

“Listy,” Rimmer calls him, and it feels like he’s gotten his Rimmer back. It kind of gives him a shiver.

But the dreams don’t stop. Sometimes they’re still on Starbug – “I got fed up with adventuring,” Dream Rimmer says in the cockpit, in the kitchen, in the sleeping quarters – but sometimes he comes here, to the rebuilt Red Dwarf, to the brig. “I’m here to rescue you, Listy,” he’ll say, and Lister will say “What do you know about rescuing?” and then they’ll fight and then they’ll snog and then Rimmer will let Lister fuck his mouth, and they never really get round to the rescuing part. 

Lister is too embarrassed to jerk himself off to completion with Rimmer sleeping the bunk underneath. (He hears Rimmer quietly touching himself sometimes, short shallow breaths and rustling sheets, but he resolutely pretends not to listen.) Rimmer is _here_ , through some fluke or miracle Rimmer is sleeping right in this room, but he can’t keep from imagining the other Rimmer returning, and he hates himself for it. He knows what a difference it’s made to this Rimmer, to see Lister pick him out a crowd to hang out with, for Lister to act like they’re more friends than enemies. He knows how it must hurt when Lister forgets and mentions something only _his_ Rimmer would know and this Rimmer looks at him blankly. Lister tries not to let his face fall, but he can’t help it. 

It’s after lights out when Rimmer whispers from the bottom bunk, “Listy.”

“Yeah?” Lister says, pulling back from his almost-sleep.

“Tell me about – about us. About you and the, uh, other version of me.”

Lister doesn’t say anything for a few moments. He doesn’t know _what_ to say. He thinks of stories he could tell – the despair squid or Rimmer’s psi-moon or the time he let Rimmer use his body – but Rimmer’s hushed tone sounded like it wasn’t just asking for anecdotes. Lister isn’t sure what he was asking. 

“Holly brought you back to keep me sane,” Lister says, “I was the last person alive, and she didn’t want me to be alone. She brought you back for me, even though we smegging hated each other.”

“I’ve never hated you,” Rimmer says quickly. Then, after a beat, “Well, not as much as I hated your gimboid friends.”

“We were forever arguing,” Lister continues, but it doesn’t come out like it should – it’s too warm, too fond, “You were so bloody annoying. And pathetic. And cowardly, holy smeg. But... but you were my best friend, man. At first I felt sorry for you. Then the more time we spent together, the more I started to _like_ our rowing. I enjoyed it, like. Over the years, I got to know you, really know you, better than I’ve ever probably known anyone.”

He doesn’t know when exactly he slid his hand inside his boxers, but it’s in there, cupping his half-hard cock. 

“Did we ever...” Rimmer says, “I mean, holograms can’t –“

“You were hard light,” Lister says, not sure what Rimmer is asking and afraid to speculate, “After a few years, we met a guy who made you into a hard-light hologram, so you could touch. Feel.” He gives his dick a squeeze, rubbing his nipple with the other hand. 

There’s a pause. Lister hears Rimmer make tiny noises, and his cock stands at full attention. “And did you, ah,” Rimmer says, his breathing uneven, “Did you touch me?”

Lister can practically feel the gears turning in his brain. He wonders if this might be another dream, albeit a really, really vivid one. Because it sounds like Rimmer is playing with himself while listening to Lister talk about the two of them. It _sounds_ like Rimmer is asking him to describe the two of them fucking. Lister wraps his fingers around his shaft and tries to keep his voice steady. 

“The first night you had your hard-light body,” he says, pumping himself slowly, “I touched you all over. Ran my fingers through your hair. Down your chest. Your thighs. Your back, your bum. Kissed you slow and deep, which drove you crazy because you wanted to get your rocks off pronto.” 

Right as Lister swipes his thumb over the head of his cock, Rimmer lets out a whine, muffled enough that he must have buried his face in his pillow. He can hear the mattress squeaking. Lister strokes faster, picturing Rimmer fucking into the mattress, sweaty and debauched, presenting his pert ass to the world. To Lister. 

“Then I sucked you off,” he continues, drawing on his dreams for inspiration, “I took all of you in, bobbed my head up and down, licked along the underside. Fondled your balls, and then, I, uh, fingered your ass.”

Rimmer gasps.

Lister swears under his breath. He was getting sort of carried away, thinking more about getting himself off than to Rimmer listening. This is the moment Rimmer will come to his senses and tell Lister to smeg off. Rimmer – or _his_ Rimmer, at least – is pretty fucking repressed, and wouldn’t want anyone’s fingers up his ass, least of all Lister’s. 

“You were getting me ready for your cock,” Rimmer says, voice still muffled against the pillow but as matter-of-factly as if he was quoting a Space Corps directive, “You’re _so_ big, Listy. Couldn’t wait for you to –“ (his breath hitches) “—fill me up. But you said I needed preparation.”

Lister can hear the rhythm of Rimmer’s rocking against the mattress become erratic, and he pumps his own cock unsteadily, his other hand roaming over his thighs, chest, ass. “You were so tight around me,” he picks up from where Rimmer’s speech dissolves into a groan, trying to concentrate on the words, wanting to make Rimmer come before he does, “Felt so good. Filled you up, baby. Fucked you nice and gently. Every time I hit your spot, you screamed for me.”

“Faster,” Rimmer moans, and his voice isn’t muffled anymore, it’s loud enough for the next room to hear through the thin bulkhead. Lister pictures him flipping over onto his back, wrapping one hand around his dick and pushing the other hand’s fingers into ass. “Faster!”

Lister groans in response. He can feel his orgasm building, but he wants Rimmer to finish, so he tries to string some words together: “Then faster, Rimsy. You climb on top and ride my cock. Kiss you all over. Suck your nipples.”

He can hear Rimmer’s gasping and grunting, sounds from the mattress that Lister imagines are from Rimmer arching his back and trying to fuck himself back onto his fingers. But it’s clear as a bell when Rimmer says, present-tense and like an order, “Come inside me.”

Lister comes. It’s kind of earth-shattering. It might be because he hasn’t done anything close to sex with another person in a long, long time, but he’s pretty sure it might be the greatest orgasm in history. When he comes to, Rimmer is still going, and he’s making these absolutely filthy noises that Lister has never heard outside of porn. Whenever he heard Rimmer masturbate before, it was always quiet and efficient. He can't decide if Rimmer was naturally loud and had always held back for Lister’s benefit or if tonight he was putting on a _show_ for Lister’s benefit. Both thoughts seemed to turn him on. 

He hears Rimmer come, and then there’s a long silence.

“We never did that. Never came close,” Lister says eventually, “Me and... the other Rimmer. My Rimmer.”

“He wanted you to,” Rimmer says, and he sounds sad and far away, “I’m sure of it. Wanted it more than anything.”


End file.
